


Cooking with Corypheus

by spacetango



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Crack Is My Jam, Other, Tevinter Food Porn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:04:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1938537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacetango/pseuds/spacetango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An epistolary fic concerning the secret passions of Corypheus, and one humble Chantry scholar's struggle to bring hidden knowledge to light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Corruption Crumpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Excerpt from the draft of Brother Genitivi’s latest and yet unpublished work, _A Culinary Journey Through the History of Thedas_.

A little known fact about Magister Corypheus is that he considered himself somewhat a of gourmand and amateur chef.  Among his many attempts at creating the perfect amuse-bouche may be found the so-called Corruption Crumpet, an unholy blend of savory pungencies that scholars speculate he conceived in the wake of his disastrous encounter with what is now The Black City.

The following is an exact transcription of a weathered vellum scroll recently acquired by a contact of your humble author on the Kirkwall black market:

_Take you the darkest rye, and tear from it its crust, which you shall then portion in pieces small enough to devour singly.  Discard you, and trample, the soft meaty bread in front of starving orphans, for pleasure without suffering is tree without fruit._

_Now. Top you the crust on its inner side with generous crumbles of blue-veined ewe’s milk cheese ripened in caves dank and dark for no less than half a year._

_Further top you this with slivers of garlic fried glorious and golden in the oil of grapes seasoned with a generous pinch of the bitter black salt of the Nocen sea.  Take you care to angle these delectable little slivers in the cheese, for the whole is meant to be conquered by black nectar, and no portion of it may remain unravished._

_This you shall accomplish thusly: take you black balsamic aged for a slave’s lifespan in finest acacia casks, mix in it a small grating of blood orange peel and the flower of thyme, then reduce over slow flame until you have yielded a languorous elixir.  Drizzle you this, in magnanimous quantity and at once, over the morsels arranged on a platter._

_The time to savor is at hand, so forget you not to chase down the corruption with raki so strong that even chilled it transmutes your innards to fire, for life and light are fleeting, and in the end darkness claims us all._


	2. Peer Review

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter from Sister Petrine, Chantry scholar, to Brother Genitivi, written with much haste and purpose after the perusal of a forwarded manuscript summary for _A Culinary Journey_.

Dear Ferdinand,

While I found the content of your abstract fascinating, I have to express my disbelief in no uncertain terms. That any relic of such a creature as this Corypheus would exist practically undamaged after six hundred years, let alone contain a recipe for cheese on bread, strains the limits of credibility. As you well know, authenticating ancient Tevinter artifacts is an inexact science, fraught with debate, misinformation, and in a few select cases, outright and most heinous chicanery. 

Surely I need not remind you, of all people, of the abominable impiety that scoundrel, Remi Vascal, perpetrated when he claimed to have left his iniquitous ways behind through the transforming power of the Holy Knickers of Andraste? The wretch even produced the blasphemous item, and managed to convince at least two experts that the ancient Tevinter garment he had allegedly found indeed boasted an imprint of our Most Blessed Lady's, um, private petals. 

If my response seems unnecessarily harsh, let me assure you that I remain, as always, an admirer and ardent supporter of your work. It it because of my esteem that I must caution you against falling prey to what is most likely the jest of some depraved ruffian. Kirkwall is a den of debasement masquerading as a city, and anything originating there is doubly circumspect. Demand additional authentication if you must, but truly do not stake your reputation on vain hope and a battered bit of vellum.

With fond regards,  
Petrine

N.B.: Your recipe for foot cream is truly a wonder. You have my thanks for sharing this inestimable secret.


End file.
